


The Fortunate Rival

by second_skin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Goodbyes, Loss, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-17
Updated: 2012-04-17
Packaged: 2017-11-03 20:12:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/385469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/second_skin/pseuds/second_skin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>When they finally got together, Sherlock told John he was the first, the one, the only. Lestrade never revealed the truth.</em>
  <br/><em>Linked to the final scene of S1 E3, so minor spoilers for that.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fortunate Rival

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fengirl88](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fengirl88/gifts).



> _Thank you to ginbitch for the wonderful beta and to marysutherland and thimpressionist for helpful, encouraging words._   
> _Originally posted under old pseud; reposting under new._

Had Lestrade known that night before the press conference would be their last together, he might have tried to make it special--a fond farewell. Might have tried to linger long enough to memorize the feel of impossibly smooth, pale flesh stretched thin over Sherlock's ribs. The D. I. might have more studiously mapped the path of his fingers brushing against the sharp angle of Sherlock's hip, then nestling into the warm promise between his thighs. Might have tried one last time to tease a giggle or laugh from the man who had always insisted he was--they were--above such nonsense.

"And you, Lestrade, will be banned from my bed if you try to tickle me again."

_Hmpf._ Might have asked the bastard to call him "Greg," at least once. Just once.

Had he known it was the last, Lestrade also might have held that final kiss a pulsebeat longer and found again the particular flick of his tongue against Sherlock's full, pink upper lip that never failed to make him sigh.

Sherlock's sighs. A rare privilege to hear; rarer still to taste.

 

Not likely to taste them again, though.

 

Just now, the Inspector had seen Sherlock's heart worn on his expensive sleeve, poorly concealed by an orange shock blanket. Final confirmation, after years of speculation and denial, that the genius actually _had_ a heart.

It was only one flustered moment beside the ambulance. But clear and undeniable.

"Ignore me," he'd said. __

_Christ. When the hell has Sherlock Holmes ever wanted to be ignored? The shock talking, my arse,_ thought Lestrade, glancing towards the figure waiting patiently a few yards away. _  
_

For half a second Lestrade told himself they might be just good friends.

 

Then he heard Sherlock giggle as he walked with _John_ into the night.

 

**Author's Note:**

> _Written for fengirl88's LJ first birthday, August 14, 2011. Based on a song sung by her pal, Marcus Farnsworth, here:[The Fickle Mistress](http://www.plushmusic.tv/movies/27W/francis-poulenc-chansons-gaillardes-marcus-farnsworth.html)_


End file.
